Love in Bloom
by mr-and-mrs-bates
Summary: After being injured in the Army, John Bates settles into a new life as a florist at Downton's flower shop. When a simple act of kindness spirals out of control, John comes face to face with a kindred spirit in Anna Smith, a local girl that seems to be shrouded in sadness and just as lonely as he is. Based off of the movie "Bed of Roses".
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hello dear readers. It's been awhile and I have every intention of finishing up my other stories, but this is one idea that wouldn't leave me be. I wanted to start posting it for our lovely Jamesluver's birthday (I know I'm a month early), but I'm not sure I'll finish it all in time. So why not start posting now. I'm a bit rusty, but I must thank Nurs3gir1, a-lady-to-me, and drstacib for helping me out with editing this one. Hope you all enjoy and please review.**_

He woke early, just as he did every morning. The night was plagued by insomnia, but this was nothing new. John Bates hadn't slept properly even as a young boy and when he joined the army he thanked his lucky stars for his inability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. It allowed him to stay alert. Ultimately, it's what saved him from the enemy. And when he returned home, he was grateful that he couldn't always sleep. It meant he could avoid the nightmares of friends lost in battle. But as time marched on, the nightmares became fewer and further between. Assimilating in society as a civilian had taken some adjusting to and eventually John realized he could avoid the flashbacks with a change in career.

This change in career would be the last of big changes for him. John was a man of consistency, a creature of habit. From an outsider's perspective one could call his life boring. Uneventful. Each day he woke up at the same time, did one hundred push ups followed by one hundred sit ups, shined his shoes and pressed his clothes (a drill ingrained in him from his military days), took his shower, boiled a kettle of water for his Earl Grey, and arrived by seven o'clock on the dot to begin opening up the flower shop. He went through the same routine of putting on his green apron, opening the greenhouse roof vent windows, watering and fertilizing the plants, and began working on flower arrangements for the deliveries.

"John?" An older voice called out from behind him. He turned to find Bill Molesley standing in the doorway. "You're always here so early."

"You always seem so surprised," John responded with a playful smile.

"It's just you don't need to be in until nine. Joe can help open up the shop," Bill commented.

John knew Bill still had hopes that his son, Joe, would eventually take over the family business. But Joe had other aspirations. He had found his calling late in life and was set on becoming a teacher, he spent most of his days with his head in a book and, truth be told, Joe didn't have the same green thumb his father did.

"Joe has a full plate and I have nothing but time," John responded. "I enjoy it."

"Still, there must be someone you'd rather be spending your time with?"

"No." He'd tried and failed at love, or rather, love had failed him. John had tried to be a good husband. And he wasn't half bad at it before the war. Vera had always been a wild card, had always seemed to be reaching for more and settled for John. Their drinking had made them welcome company for one another and at other times they were one another's worst enemy. He should have known she'd given up on him long before his return. The letters had all but stopped before he'd even finished his first tour. The only time John heard from Vera was when the money ran out and she needed more. After the war, after the injury that is, she wasn't even there to greet him in the hospital. Only his mother had been there. He tried to return home but they got into some terrible rows, ones for the books. And his tongue had never been sharper or his temper more fierce than when he had started a love affair with the bottle. Vera was the one to ask for a divorce and he gladly gave it to her. They hadn't been happily married since their wedding day. He could admit that to himself now, but at the time he had never felt like a bigger failure. His mother was the only one would who would love him after that. He was damaged goods: emotionally and psychologically crippled.

John looked up and realized Bill was looking to him, expecting more of an explanation. "I'm perfectly content spending my time here."

Bill had lost his wife many years before, when Joe was just a teenager, and he knew that it was a lonely existence to be without your other half. The older man just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that John had seemed to give up on the search when he was still in good shape and on the right side of fifty. John didn't talk much, but when he did it was easy conversation and he had a kind nature, of that much Bill was sure.

His hands moved with precision, his fingers gentle as they brushed against each delicate petal. John was careful not to damage any of the blossoms as he pruned the stems and bound the bouquets. It was a far cry from the work his hands were used to. John supposed he'd never really forget how to clean, load, and hold a gun. Gardening and arranging flowers was a stark contrast; it provided him a chance to meditate and clear his thoughts. More importantly, his hands were now tools for healing. John was able to create life and make the world more beautiful.

"If you're going to come in so early, you should at least leave early," Bill urged as he added a few sprigs to the arrangement John had been working on.

"Bill, we've had this discussion before. If it is pay you are worried about, I don't mind. It's not as if I have many expenses anyhow." It was the truth. John's evenings were about as eventful as his mornings. He helped close up the shop, even when he didn't have to. John would either stop in a pub for some grub or make himself a meal in his tiny flat. Most nights he was content to listen to the radio and sketch, or read a book into the wee hours of the night.

"I'm not worried about pay, I'm worried about you. If you aren't spending your time with a lady at least go off and find some friends."

"I'm really not one for social interaction," John mused as he lifted a bag of potting soil and set it out on the potting bench. He then grabbed a bag of mulch and set it beside the potting soil. "I'm no good to anyone."

"You're good to me."

The old man had a way of warming his heart. John had come to look up to him as a pseudo-father figure. In many ways Bill had picked up where his mother left off. "I appreciate that, but you're my boss. If I was no good I'm certain I wouldn't be working for you anymore."

"You know what I mean. A man needs company aside from his aging employer."

"Don't say that. Besides, I have my mate, Rob."

"Whom you hardly ever see."

"Have you been spying on me, Bill?" John asked in a half-teasing manner.

"It's not hard to do when you are hanging around here all day," Bill pointed out.

"Point well taken. I'll see if my social calendar has any openings," John joked. "For now I have to prepare for the deliveries with Alfred and William."

"Don't work too hard. Wouldn't want you hurting your knee anymore than it already is."

"I keep telling you, Mr. Molesley. I can manage."

* * *

Somewhere on the other side of town, nestled in her office on the top floor, Anna Smith was polishing off her second cup of coffee for the morning and contemplating a third. No. The excess caffeine would make her jittery, and her stomach was already doing flips in anticipation of the outcome in court today. She'd hardly slept. If today went well there was a good chance they'd offer her a partnership at the firm. Of course she'd already made a name for herself within the building, and at such a young age. Her parents would be so proud if they could see her now.

Anna reached for the phone on her desk. "Ivy, could you please bring in a cup of tea and some biscuits?"

"Certainly."

"And something to calm my stomach if you can round it up?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Once Anna heard the click on the other line she began rummaging through her desk drawer for a fresh top, comb, and toothbrush. She proceeded to the attached, private bathroom and began to change. Sleeping on the couch in her office had hardly been ideal, but there was no way she'd finish all the preparations she needed if she had driven home the night before and fought the morning traffic today. Anna spritzed some of her perfume on the blouse and into her hair, applied some deodorant, and brushed her teeth. As she wet her hair to pull it back into a bun, her mobile phone rang.

Immediately recognizing the number, she swiped the button to answer the call and greeted her friend. "Good morning, Gwen."

"I just got your text."

Anna rolled her eyes. It was usually Gwen who was first to wake and prompt Anna to get out of bed when she heard Anna hit the snooze button one too many times on her alarm. Go figure, the one time she tried to warn her friend that she wouldn't be coming home, Gwen didn't check her messages.

"You didn't come home last night again. Does this mean you slept over at Mark's?"

"Absolutely not," Anna responded sounding almost offended that her roommate would even insinuate such a thing. Mark Powell worked a floor below her firm and had run into Anna a few times in the lift or while trying to hail a taxi. Lately he'd made it a point of stopping by to ask her to lunch and dinner. She'd obliged once, just to be nice, but she couldn't see it going any further than that. Truth be told, she couldn't even see him as much of a friend, more like a good shag if that's what she was after. Which she wasn't.

"He fancies you," Gwen pointed out.

"I know," Anna said slightly irritated.

"And he's good looking."

"I don't deny that. But if I'm going to spend my time with someone, I'm going to need more than a pretty face to keep my attention," Anna answered back.

"Alright, I won't press it anymore, I just thought maybe he deserved a second chance. Not everyone makes a great impression their first time out the gate."

"I can't see him changing tactics any time soon. Beside, I have a lot on my plate with work right now. I can't allow myself to get distracted. At least not until after this partnership is in the bag."

"What about Thomas?" Gwen inquired.

"Barrow?" Anna responded with a smile.

"Yes, you've mentioned you get on well enough with him."

"He's a bit too snarky for my liking, besides, I think he's more likely to date Mark than I am."

Both girls erupted into peals of laughter. "I didn't realize. So if you weren't at Mark's, did you not shower then?"

"Of course I did. I swung by the gym and used the locker room showers."

"You managed to fit in a workout this morning?"

"No," Anna laughed with a snort.

"Honestly, Anna. You may as well live in your office. It's got a view, a bathroom, and you hardly leave there."

Anna shook her head, but she knew Gwen was right.

"I feel bad taking your half of the rent when you are never here, and you pay for a gym membership to boot just so you can shower."

"Oh Gwen, my life isn't all doom and gloom. Today is another step in the right direction," Anna said as she looked herself over in the mirror.

"Don't misunderstand me, Anna. I only speak up because you're my friend. I think of you like a sister." Anna was touched by Gwen's words. "It's just you keep talking of this great life you are building for yourself and I have to wonder when you're going to start living it? You keep your nose in a pile of case paperwork for the rest of your life and one day you are going to look up and realized it all passed you by. You need to start making time to get outside and smell the roses."

"Yes, I know. Let me clear this last hurdle and I promise I'll make more time for you and going out."

"Brilliant. Can't wait. Call or text when your hearing is over and let me know how it goes."

"I will. Now I really must go or I'll be late."

"Off with you then."

* * *

"John, it's been ages since you've stopped by," Cora greeted warmly as she pressed a quick peck on his cheek. "Come in. Come in," she insisted.

John wiped his feet on the doormat to make sure he didn't bring in any dirt. It wasn't his first time in the Crawley home. They always declared he was like family and should make himself comfortable. But he always felt out of his element in the big, sprawling mansion. He'd never own a home as glorious as this, not if he worked a hundred years.

"You know you didn't even have to ring the doorbell, you could have helped yourself," Cora reminded.

"It's been awhile. I didn't want to intrude," he responded.

"Robert is probably just tinkering around in the office upstairs. Is he expecting you?" she asked.

"No, I don't believe so. If he's busy I can leave."

"Nonsense. I'll go get him. We just ordered some chinese food to be delivered. It's probably too much for the two of us. You're more than welcome to join us."

"Oh...sure," John answered, "that would be lovely." Old Bill's words were echoing in his head. He needed to get out more and spend more time interacting with others.

"Can I help you to a drink first?"

"No alcohol, but a water would be nice."

"Of course." As Cora fished a glass from the cupboard and began to fill it with water she noticed John eyeing one of the plants by the windowsill. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong with that one," she moaned. "I've tried watering it and even moved it to the window to get more sunlight. It appears I'm the grim reaper when it comes to houseplants."

John chuckled softly and smiled.

"What's so funny?"

"It's an African Violet. They are one of the easiest plants to maintain and somehow you've managed to nearly kill it."

Cora's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

John picked up the pot it was sitting in and returned it to a place on the counter top. "You've over watered it and it doesn't need direct sunlight. The soil should stay moist, but don't water it again until the roots have dried out."

"I'll keep that in mind. How did you manage to develop such a green thumb?"

"The talent sort of found me. I had to adapt after I came back. I couldn't continue the way I had before."

"You're very good at it. Sure I can't entice you to oversee our gardens?"

"I'm not a fan of landscaping. Not that it isn't good work. It's just...you don't get to experience the appreciation and joy on someone's face the same way you do when a delivery of flowers is made." John shook his head, he must sound like such a fool. "I know that probably doesn't make sense, but…"

"No. It does. And it's a beautiful sentiment." Cora didn't know John as well as her husband did, but Robert had always held him in high regard and John had been a devoted Godfather to their youngest daughter, Sybil. The man had his fair share of bad luck and she was pleased as punch to see him getting his life back on track. "I'll just go fetch, Robert."

* * *

Anna emerged from her meeting with the partners at her firm feeling a sense of accomplishment. The case had gone better than predicted. They never even set foot in a courtroom. The moment Anna presented her case, the other side took a moment to talk amongst themselves and eventually decided to settle. She knew the odds were in her favor, but Anna hadn't expected it to go that swimmingly. Almost immediately after, the partners had requested she hang around while they spoke behind closed doors. A few minutes and a round of drinks later, they were toasting Anna on the offer of a partnership.

"Wow!" Gwen exclaimed. "So how long before they add your name to the sign on the building?"

"I don't know. I'm not even sure they will," Anna replied.

"Of course they will. You can't make partner and have your name excluded. I mean unless they lump you in with Mrs. Hughes and just write 'Carson and Associates', but that doesn't sound nearly as appealing as 'Carson, Hughes, and Smith.' Don't you agree?'

"Goodness, Gwen you sound more excited than me."

"Well aren't you happy? I thought this is what you wanted," Gwen commented a little deflated.

"I am, it's just…" she couldn't put it into words. Somehow, despite all her efforts and years of law school, what should have been a milestone in her career has not brought her the level of joy that she had expected. Perhaps it was because deep down she knew what it had cost her. She'd spent so much time focused on her career that she has missed her chance to share her achievement with a special someone. But she couldn't tell Gwen that. It would seem ungrateful and Anna was not one for pity parties. Her best friend was happy for her, and she should have mirrored her excitement.

"Just...what?"

"Nothing. I'll probably be home late, we can celebrate sometime this weekend."

"I'll hold you to that," Gwen replied.

Shortly after hanging up the phone a knock came on her office door. "Yes, come in."

"Anna, you got a phone call while you were out."

"Thank you, Daisy. You can just leave it on my desk. I'll return the call later."

"Actually…I thought you should hear it in person. In case…"

"In case what?" Anna asked, suddenly curious. The girl standing across from her seemed to have lost all ability to speak. "For goodness sake, Daisy. Has someone died?"

"Yes," the young girl managed to reply.

* * *

They continued to pick their way through dinner, sharing laughter and good conversation. Sybil had stopped by unexpectedly from med school to do some laundry and stock up on food. Mary soon followed, although, she was more of a tornado when compared with Sybil who always seemed like a breath of fresh air. Then there was Edith. She made an impromptu visit on her way back from dinner with her new beau, Bertie. John couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something rather morose about the girl. Mary seemed to pick on her mercilessly, though Edith was known to give it back as good as she got it. Tonight they seemed to be on their best behavior in his presence. Still it was clear to see that all the girls loved their father dearly and they were the apple of Robert's eyes. It was an interesting change to be sitting around a table with friends rather than in his tiny flat all by himself with something that required less than three ingredients to make or three minutes to microwave. It may have been take away, but the company made the food taste so much more rich. And when he saw Cora lean in to give Robert a kiss, for the first time in ages, John found himself wishing he had someone to love that loved him back.

Robert had screwed up pretty badly in the past, and yet somehow he ended up with a wonderful woman like Cora. Now, John would readily admit he was no saint, but still he had to question whatever gods existed how Robert had managed to find and keep his other half, while he still lived a life of solitude. He supposed it was partially his fault. He hadn't been one for company when he returned from war, and in the years since he had mingled a bit more, but only at the urging of Robert and Mr. Molesley. Maybe he just hadn't found the right person to socialize with.

John helped clean up when they finished their meal and chatted for a bit with Robert. "This was nice," he commented. "I didn't realize how much I missed it until now."

"You should make it a habit to come over more often. We're always happy for the company. Don't let tonight fool you, the girls aren't here as often anymore."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Shall I start making up the guest room for you?" Robert inquired.

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Well, I'll get the keys to give you a ride home then."

"Actually, I think I'd prefer a walk."

"That's a hell of a walk," Robert noted.

"I know, but sleep doesn't come easy for me."

"Still?" Robert asked with a tinge of guilt.

John nodded in silent agreement.

"I'm sorry, old boy." Robert apologized for what must have been the millionth time. Both men had served their time in the military and fought side by side in the same regiment. John was nothing, if not a loyal soldier. And his devotion not only lay with Queen and country, but with his best mate, Robert. The older of the two (though only by a few months), ranked higher than John. But the two never forgot their roots or their time in the academy. John was all too happy to follow his friend into battle, the difference in rank mattered little. The same held true when one night, their regiment was held down under heavy fire. John could have escaped unscathed, but when he heard Robert's cry for help there was no doubt. The two were either leaving together or not at all. John hadn't even noticed the shrapnel lodged in his knee until he was certain that they were in the clear. Multiple surgeries were done by the military to minimize the damage and prevent a prominent limp, but it was never restored to it's former glory. It was a hard lesson for a soldier to come to terms with until it was too late. Not all scars were visible, some were etched in your memory for all eternity. "What about your knee?"

John's lips formed a thin line and his eyes met the floor as his hands sunk into his pockets.

Robert hadn't meant to say it, but he knew immediately he crossed a line. His friend hated to be reminded of his injury, and even more so he hated to be reminded of his limitations.

"I can manage," John stated.

"Right. Well, be sure to call us when you get home, else Cora will worry."

"Cora?" John repeated back with mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Christ. Don't make me confess my feelings aloud. It's very unbecoming for an Englishman."

John chuckled, taking his meaning. "Of course. I'll call to ease Cora's mind."

"You'd better."

"I will," John said before shaking hands with Robert.

* * *

Anna had returned to the flat she shared with Gwen. When Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes found out about what happened they insisted she leave to go home immediately and take as much time as she needed. Mrs. Hughes had asked if there was anyone she could call to give Anna a ride, the older woman had taken a shine to her new partner. But Anna couldn't think of anyone to call, truth be told, even if there had been, she wouldn't have wanted to call them. She needed to sort her thoughts. And so, for the past two hours, Anna had found herself aimlessly walking the streets of Downton, looking for something she couldn't define but was desperately in need of. She felt empty and alone, though that had been the case for years. It was now echoing in her soul more than ever.

Gwen must have gone out with the new man in her life. Harding, was it? She'd been so busy with work she couldn't even remember the name of her roommate's boyfriend. Now she felt worse.

Anna turned the lights on as she made her way to her bedroom. She wanted nothing more than to take off her clothes and sink into a warm tub. As she removed her coat and set her purse down on the chair beside her bed, she suddenly felt exhausted and the bath lost its appeal. The photo on the night stand grabbed her attention and she found herself staring at it. The edges were frayed and the color had faded, but the memory of her and her parents was still captured for that one brief second. How happy they were. It was the last photo they had taken together before her father passed. She was just five when it happened and could scarcely recall her father now. Her mother would follow soon after, but not before marrying her step father. Anna shuddered and suddenly, after hours of fighting it, the tears fell freely.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: My apologies for the delay on getting this updated. Trying to update more frequently now. A big thanks to my beta nurs3gir1. Here's part two to my belated birthday gift for Jamesluver's birthday. Enjoy and please review.**_

She looked over the arrangement of flowers that had been left on her doorstep. A selection of white lilies with a white ribbon tied neatly in a bow around the neck of the glass vase. They were lovely, she couldn't deny that, though she doubted they were for her. She hadn't received flowers in...well ever… if she were being quite honest. Maybe once or twice from a boy when she was a little girl, but it was usually a handful that had been ripped from the earth in haste, with it's roots tangled and covered in dirt. Still the flowers somehow lost their significance when the one who delivered them would lose interest in her as quickly as they had attained it. Sadly, Anna had always been suspicious of the intentions of the opposite sex after an unfortunate encounter with her stepfather as a young girl. It was from that point on that she kept a wide berth of her male counterparts.

Anna admired them a little closer, searching through the blossoms in vain for a card or some indication as to whom they had come from. Perhaps someone from the office had gotten wind of the phone call she received the day before and sent them. But if that were the case, why wouldn't they have left a card to tell her who it was from?

Her fingers set to work, typing away on her mobile to check on her roommate. Much as she hated to interrupt Gwen's time with Mr. Harding, Anna couldn't let this mystery go unsolved. She just wanted to check if there was any chance the flowers weren't for her, but for her friend. But if they weren't for her roommate, who would they have come from? After all, Gwen hadn't come home from an evening out with her beau yet. After a few moments of suspense Anna's phone pinged and the text back indicated that Gwen wasn't expecting any, nor had she sent them.

Somebody must know who sent them or had seen who sent them she thought to herself. Just then Anna had an idea. She exited the flat and quickly made her way down the hallway to the neighbor's door. Albeit, she may not be the most reliable source, but Mrs Patmore was the only person that Anna knew had been home all day and might have seen who delivered the flowers. She knocked on the door, and a few seconds later the older woman answered it. Mrs Patmore was a short, stout woman with a hint of red hair and a smattering of grey sprinkled in it. She was usually well aware of everyone's comings and goings in the neighborhood, but her vision had been failing her as of late.

"Who is it?" she asked with her eyes straining to recognize the blur standing in front of her. The older woman's head was turned slightly to the left so her good ear could recognize the voice.

"Good morning Mrs Patmore. It's me, Anna...from down the hall." Mrs Patmore looked as if she were having a hard time placing the name. Anna couldn't blame her, she hadn't been around the flat much the last few months, and she'd only interacted with their neighbor once or twice after she'd moved in with Gwen. "I'm Gwen's roommate," she reminded. God. She really did need to interact with society more.

"Of course. You'll have to excuse me, it's been sometime," Mrs Patmore greeted her warmly.

"Completely understandable. I'm just as guilty for not stopping by more."

"Can I help you with something, dear?"

"I'm sorry to be bothering you, but I had a delivery dropped off…"

"A delivery you say?" Mrs Patmore interrupted.

"Yes, that's right. Sometime this morning…"

"What was it?"

"Flowers," Anna answered a little flustered at being interrupted again.

"From a gentleman caller?" Mrs Patmore inquired with raised eyebrows.

Doubtful, Anna thought to herself. "I don't know really. That's just it. There was no card in the flowers and I was wondering if you saw who came by."

"Well, my eyes aren't what they used to be…"

Anna's shoulders slumped in defeat. Although if one were to ask her why she couldn't have explained it for certain. It was as if she were missing someone she had never even met.

"And you know I hate to appear nosey...but…"

Suddenly Anna's features came to life once more with renewed hope. "Yes…"

"Well it was a man, he was about yay tall," she said trying to indicate with her hand a height that overshot her small frame. "A little over six feet, fair skin, a medium build, and dark hair."

Anna mulled the description over and found herself smirking. "Did you maybe see a logo or company name on his shirt?"

"No, my eyes aren't that sharp. Cataracts," she commented.

"Did you perhaps see it on the vehicle he was driving?" Anna asked.

"I don't recall a vehicle, in fact it almost sounded as if he were on a bicycle."

"A bicycle?" He must be a delivery boy she surmised. "Do you remember anything else?"

"I'm afraid that's it," Mrs Patmore replied. "If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

"Thank you, Mrs Patmore."

"Anytime."

Anna left Mrs Patmore's flat on a mission. There could only be so many flower shops in the area with delivery boys on bicycles. Surely one of them could confirm if they had stopped by her flat this morning.

* * *

Anna waited anxiously as the dial tone of the phone echoed in her ear, this was the last flower shop on her very short list of places in and around town. The last few places she called had confirmed no deliveries were made to her address. Finally a voice responded on the other end of the phone.

"Bill's Blooms. This is Bill speaking, how can I help you?"

"Oh, hello. My name is Anna and I recently received a delivery of flowers, but there's no card to indicate where or who it came from. I just wanted to see if anyone from your shop might have dropped them off. I'd very much like to thank whoever sent them." She hoped she didn't sound too eager, or worse, desperate.

Bill smiled warmly at her words, he recognized that tone of voice better than most. It was as if she were reaching out for a life preserve in the middle of an ocean. That voice of longing; the desire to connect with someone. The old man shuffled over to the delivery log, he hadn't been one to make the switch over to computers yet. It wasn't that he couldn't operate them, but he felt there was a loss in the personal touch that using paper and pencil offered. Thankfully, John and Alfred didn't make a fuss over the matter. "Can I get your address please dear?"

Anna provided the number and street, then waited patiently as she heard bill mutter the address over and over to himself. She could almost hear his finger sliding down the paper and turning the page as he double checked.

"When did you say you got them dear?"

"Sometime early this morning," Anna responded faster than she anticipated.

"I don't see anything in the log here, I'm sorry to say. But I didn't open the shop today. It's possible our delivery man received the order and didn't get the chance to log it yet. Either that or the sender chose to remain anonymous. I can check with him when he gets back."

Atleast he hadn't said no, she thought to herself. Still she couldn't help sounding a bit let down. "I understand."

"Let me get your number and I'll be sure to give you a call when he comes in, probably wouldn't be until close to lunchtime. He had a delivery across town, and it takes a bit on bicycle."

Anna's eyes lit up at that remark. "A bicycle you say?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thanks for all your help, Bill."

"You're quite welcome. Have a lovely day, Anna."

* * *

John returned from his delivery run and began to check off his stops from the log. Bill snuck up behind him and slid a cup of tea over towards John. "How was it outside?"

"Not bad, bit of a chill in the air, but my coat kept me warm."

"Well here is something to warm your bones. I made it just the way you like."

"Thanks," John said as he took a long sip from the cup. "How were things here? Any new orders?"

"It's been pretty quiet. There was a phone call earlier from a lady named, Anna. She was calling around trying to find a shop that delivered her flowers. I didn't find anything on the log, but I told her I'd check with you when you returned." Bill removed the piece of folded paper from his pocket and laid it on the countertop for John to see.

John hoped his facial expression didn't betray him. He immediately recognized the address, but he hadn't expected the receiver to call. John supposed he should have seen this coming. In truth, he never thought she'd comb through the internet and call around to every place within a 30 mile radius. "I recognize it alright," he said trying to sound nonchalant. "The sender wanted to remain anonymous." He lifted the cup of tea to his mouth once more and tried to appear busier than usual.

"That's a shame."

"Why do you say that?" John inquired. His eyes pretended to follow the words on the morning paper, but his ears were very much alert to Bill's next response.

"I don't know. Something about the way she spoke. You'd think she'd been pinning all her hopes on finding out who sent them. Sounded like a woman who hadn't received flowers in a long time."

John sat there unsure of what to say next. He felt both a sense of pride for being able to give this person something she hadn't been given in awhile, but also felt horrible that she was expecting an answer as to whom sent her these flowers. And now she'd be left feeling unfulfilled when he told her that the sender wished to remain anonymous.

"I told her I'd give her a call once I spoke to you. I guess I'd better get on that."

Poor Anna, he thought to himself. John debated the next words that came out of his mouth. After all, he had been the one to make the delivery. "I can handle it, Bill."

Bill had just begun to fumble around with the phone and paused to look rather curiously at John. "You sure?"

"I promise to let her down gently," John commented.

"Please do," Bill replied.

"I just have to finish up helping Alfred with the van then I'll make the call," he promised.

Bill returned to nursing his cup of tea while John stepped outside to prepare the van for a larger delivery that afternoon. He fondly tapped Alfred on the shoulder, who had been watering the plants, and signaled for him to help. "We'll just work on this afternoon's delivery for the Peterson wedding," John called out over his shoulder. He zipped up his jacket to keep warm and placed his newsboy cap back on before heading outside.

John carefully loaded each of the centerpieces into the delivery van. Alfred came out shortly after to assist with the bouquets and garland. He was a young lad with bright red hair and a good head on his shoulders. John had a feeling this was a part-time job until a slot opened up for him at the London culinary school. Alfred missed his chance earlier in the year when he tried to pursue a girl named Ivy. They were never serious, they were never even a couple come to think of it. Still John had to give the young man credit for trying. He had never found a woman that made him want to give everything up.

"Excuse me…" a small voice called out from behind them. Anna shuffled nervously from one foot to another.

Alfred turned around first and after giving Anna a look over he elbowed John gently in the ribs to get his attention.

Anna cleared her throat and managed a smirk as she combed her hair behind her ear.

It was at that moment that John turned around and saw the gorgeous, petite, blonde standing in front of him. He now understood why his colleague was still rendered speechless. Someone had to say something, unfortunately it was not going to come from either of the men present.

"I didn't mean to bother you," she quickly began to apologize. Perhaps coming in person hadn't been the best idea. But curiosity had gotten the better of her and she didn't have anywhere else to go today. Anna was beginning to lose her nerve and wanted to walk away but then the older of the two men removed his cap. His hazel eyes met her blue eyes, and she felt a warmth overtake her body, despite the chill in the air. He offered a half smile, and she thought her legs might fail her when the corners of his eyes crinkled. Suddenly words failed her, she'd forgotten her purpose.

"You were saying?" Alfred inquired.

"I...oh...ummm." She had become tongue tied, her eyes never wavering from the older fellow. He had kind features, the likes of which she'd never observed before on any other man. They were a stark contrast to his frame and stature that reminded her of an officer. He certainly wasn't the type she expected to be working in the flower business. "I didn't mean to bother you, it's just I received some flowers, possibly from your shop, and I didn't find a card with the delivery. I was hoping one of you could help me."

"We'll certainly do our very best," the older fellow replied in a kind timbre.

"I'm sorry Mister…"

"I'm John Bates, ma'am," he filled in the blank for her as he eagerly extended his hand to shake.

John. So that's his name. Why should it matter? What made this man so fascinating to her? Anna couldn't help but be mesmerized by him. His hand felt warm in her own despite the cool air blowing outside. It was coarse compared to her own, but the ruggedness of his skin was a comfort. She couldn't help but stare at the way his hand seemed to consume her own in his firm, but gentle grip. "I'm Anna Smith," she responded shyly. Her lips slowly quirked into a smile. Their hands released, the loss of contact was felt instantly. The instant spark lost, but not the flips that her stomach was doing as she stood there silently. She used her free hand to push a loose hair back behind her ear. "I spoke to the owner earlier, he said there wasn't anything in the logs. He was going to check with his delivery man and call me back, but...well I didn't have anything to do today and I couldn't wait to find out." God she must sound pathetic, she thought to herself. Even replaying the words in her head made her cringe. Nothing else to do today. So impatient, desperate, or possibly full of herself that she couldn't wait to find out who her secret admirer was. At that moment, Anna wanted nothing more than for a hole to appear beneath her and the floor to swallow her up.

John's eyes widened in surprise, there was a moment of realization and then his whole body seemed to stiffen. He averted his eyes before she had a chance to read his features and looked over to the younger lad. "Why don't you finish loading the van, Alf. I'll see if I can help out Mrs. Smith," John instructed.

"I really didn't mean to be a bother," she said apologetically.

"It's quite alright," John said genuinely.

"And it's Miss Smith," she corrected.

Alfred set back to work and shot John a smile over his shoulder.

John held open the door for Anna as he ushered her inside where she could keep warm. He reached for the log, though he had no intention of going through it. He knew damn well who those flowers came from and he wasn't about to tell her. Not now that he could see her up close and in the flesh. Anna was somewhat occupied as she glimpsed around the small shop, stopping here and there to admire the different flowers and arrangements. It was a welcome break, John selfishly took a few seconds to admire the gorgeous creature flitting about his work place, much like a hummingbird. "Where is it you live Miss Smith?" he inquired.

"38 Bennet Street. It's right across…"

"From Downton Park. Yes, I know the area." He answered a little too quickly. "We make deliveries all the time," he added. John hadn't expected her to go to such lengths to find out who made the delivery. If he didn't speak up she'd spend the rest of her day trying to figure out where the flowers came from and he couldn't do that to her. John closed the log and took a glance outside to make sure Alfred was still loading up the van. "Miss Smith…"

"Anna is fine," she said with a smile.

The look on her face should have put him at ease, but instead he felt like his stomach was in knots. "Anna...I made the delivery."

"Oh...then you must know who sent them."

"I'm sorry, but the sender wanted to remain anonymous."

"Anonymous? Surely you can tell me…"

"Fraid not."

"Why ever not?" she asked.

"Now what kind of employee would I be if I didn't honor our customer's wishes?"

She was about to say something more, but she couldn't exactly argue with that point. Still, Anna had to know who had sent them. Even if it was just a hint, she could figure it out from there.

Sensing her dissatisfaction at his argument John had to find a way to flip the script on her. "If you don't mind my asking, what is it you do, Anna?"

Anna pursed her lips together. "I'm a partner at a legal firm."

"Well then think of it as attorney/client privilege, but for florists."

"What is there some sort of florist oath?" she shot back.

He chuckled at that. "Nothing quite that severe."

Anna smiled at that. She certainly had respect for a person that took such pride in their work, and she wouldn't want to place him in a position that would put his job at risk. Anna thought she might be able to appeal to his softer side. Surely he could understand that. "I just wanted to be able to thank whoever sent them."

The corner of John's lip quirked upward. "You enjoyed the flowers then?"

"Yes. Very much so."

"Well, then I did my job. I'll be sure to pass your sentiments along."

Anna nodded her head slowly in acceptance.

He should have just told her it was him. The voice at the back of John's mind was chiding him for initiating this whole thing. But now that he'd had the chance to see her up close his mouth had been robbed of words. If he told her the truth she'd probably think him creepy, or so he'd convinced himself. When he noticed she was staring at him John cleared his throat. "Can I help you with anything else?" he offered.

"I guess not." Anna stepped forward to shake his hand. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," he muttered as she walked out the door.


End file.
